Wait, What?
by smile.lovato
Summary: It sort of all goes downhill the moment she sniffs the pillow. Because at this moment a very sharp, important realization cuts right through her hangover-induced, languid thoughts: this is not her pillow. This is not her bed. And this most certainly is not her room. Modern AU. Elsanna and others [No Incest]


**The characters are probably OOC...so yeah have fun with that.**

**As for the post...It's not quite a full chapter. But it's not a prologue either (at least I don't feel like it is ). I don't even know :l Give it a go I guess lol.**

**Sorry for the potential, maybe existing typos :l**

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There is a heavy pounding in her head – one that vaguely taunts her with the words hangover sloppily etched in her mind. There's a bad taste in her mouth, after she feels herself yawn. Pasty layer on her lips that suspiciously feels like the remnants of lipstick. Her eyes haven't quite decided to open yet. Or rather, she hasn't decided to open them. Her head is swimming even with this attempted blissful darkness. She can barely imagine how much worse it will be when she finally opens her eyes.

One to always try to delay the inevitable (more like procrastinate at every opportunity even with the most mundane tasks), she rolls, burying her face in the soft pillow. She inhales deeply, hoping the smell of her fabric softener will at least soften the piercing blow to her head. But it doesn't. In fact, what happens next is the exact opposite of the desired effect.

It sort of all goes downhill the moment she sniffs the pillow. Because at this moment a very sharp, important realization cuts right through her sluggish, languid thoughts.

_This isn't Downy….THIS ISN'T DOWNY!_

Her eyes immediately shoot open and she sits upright. The second she does, the dizzying pain comes back with a vengeance, making her sway in her seat briefly. With a groan and a hand clutching her pounding head, she glances around only to have her suspicions confirmed.

If the lack of Downy in the pillows wasn't an obvious indication, it's probably the posters of half naked Sports Illustrated models adorning the walls. And the clothes burying the carpeted floor. And the gaudy plaid bed duvet. And the second bed off on the other side, just as messy as this one. And that godforsaken smell, like some kind of animal died and someone tried to cover it up with an excess amount of cologne.

_Aecvurlfweihb;afeijofonvn;gjsjirjfaTHIS ISN'T MY ROOM!_

_Nice observation captain obvious._

She wrinkles her nose, struggling against the sheets to reach the end of the bed and that's when she's forced to come to terms with another sudden realization.

_Wha – my clothes!_

She makes another hasty movement, to get out of bed, resulting in toppling over against the carpeted floor. The blankets fall in a messy heap by her feet and she scrambles back into a sitting position, eyes wildly darting around the empty room.

She breathes heavily, trying to calm the rising panic. At least no one is here, she thinks half optimistic. At least I'm not completely naked. She looks down, pulling at the only article of clothing she has on. A blue overly large sports tee of the school's hockey team. It's not as reassuring as she would have liked it to be. And it still doesn't change the fact that she woke up in someone else's bed with a bitch of a head ache, wearing nothing but an old jersey.

She swallows thickly, taking another glance around the room and that's when she spots a large vanity. _Oh dear god!_

Staring back at her is the bane of her existence… Okay, perhaps that's a bit dramatic. But certain situations called for dramatics. Especially completely foolish drunken one night stands with a potential hockey player that doesn't know the meaning of air fresheners. Because she doesn't get drunk, and she most certainly doesn't participate in meaningless sex –

It's at this point that one of the last realizations hits her: _OH MY GOD I HAD SEX WITH SOMEONE!_

"Crap, crap crap crap crap crap," she exclaims frantically, running a shaky hand through her hair. "Oh my god. _Oh my god_!"

A million and one thoughts go through the poor girl's head, as she continues pacing across the room (occasionally tripping over the many things littering the floor). _Where are my clothes? I need to get out of here. Where is he? Um, what was his name again? Henry? Howard? Harold, Harry? Halibut? Okay seriously, who the hell has the name Halibut? Focus here Anna! What the hell happened? Ugh bet Rapunzel left me and – oh jesus Christ what the crap am I going to do about her? I can't just waltz right into our dorm as if I didn't just have sex with a complete stranger named after a fish! Oh my god, I forgot, I just had sex ahhh oh my god I'm going to cry. Did I use a condom? I swear to god Anna if you didn't I will kill you – what time does the pharmacy open – should I buy a pregnancy test too? Oh my god what if I am preggers? What will my mom say? I'm going to have to drop out of school, and end up living with the parentals forever and then –_

The sound of the doorknob turning and clicking open, breaks her internal ramble. She doesn't have much time to react, much less scramble back into bed, before the door flies open and someone walks in.

Someone far from what Anna expects, considering the fact that it's blonde girl who's just walked in and she was pretty sure she went home with a guy. _What was his name again?_

The blonde steps in, struggling with two large brown paper bags filled with what she assumes is groceries. Or something else, because one is steaming and the smell of fresh baked something filters through the cologne filled room.

Anna quietly surveys the girl, uncertain as what to do next. But she finds that she doesn't have to because the girl begins to speak.

"Hey I'm sorry for walking in like this. The door was open and my hands are full, so…" The blonde's voice trails off as she finally notices her. And Anna feels her face flush at the sudden attention – _direct_ attention. Because the girl's eyes look her up and down, eyebrows furrowed. Blue, icy, cold eyes. Anna shivers involuntarily. Possibly because she's only in the shirt. Or perhaps it's the look this girl is giving her. She's leaning more to the latter.

_…or maybe it's because I think I had sex with this girl. Oh my god I had sex with a girl, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god._

"Um, hi." She offers weakly, waving as if that will make a difference. She pulls self consciously at the ends of the t-shirt, hoping to cover the legs the girl before her is burning holes into. She gulps soundly, very aware of how underdressed she is, especially compared to the blonde in her white button up blouse and dark grey skirt. Even in normal circumstances (jeans and t-shirts) she's sure she would still feel very underdressed around this girl. She just kind of gave off that vibe. It's the way she stood there, intimidating, simply staring at the redhead wordlessly. And Anna could tell immediately that this was someone on a whole different level of _people_.

And despite the situation, Anna's stupidity never failed to make its appearance. A small flare of pride flickers in her chest, as she stares at the blonde.

_Did I seriously sleep with that? But how?_

It's as if the girl had read her mind, because her eyes suddenly narrow dangerously. _Fix this Anna, you idiot!_"I didn't, um, sorry I know I should've, uh probably left before you, um, got back. I didn't mean to overstay my welcome. Last night was, uh—"

"Where's Hans?" The girl interrupts.

"Hans?"

The blonde sighs impatiently. "He lives here. _As you obviously know."_ Her eyes do another once over of her appearance. Anna's cheeks flame.

_Hans! That's what his name was. Oh! Aw that means –_

Anna tries to smile despite herself. Despite the stranger's sudden icy glare. And despite the fact that she once again forgets she's standing half naked in a boy's room. Oh god what if that was his girlfriend? The smile instantly melts away.

"Um, I'm Anna," she starts tentatively, but the girl ignores her, setting the food down on the nearest desk. If it were possible, her eyes narrow more so as she turns back to the redhead.

_"Where's Hans?"_ She repeats.

Anna blinks innocently, feeling more and more out of place as the seconds ticked by.

"Um, I don't—"

"He just left you here?"

"Well, I mean…" The girl's eyes finally move away, darting around the room. Her lips twist distastefully and one of her eyebrows raises. Anna feels the unspoken judgment, despite the fact that the blonde isn't necessarily looking at her. Swallowing what little pride she has left – which is like _none_ – Anna turns, following the blonde's line of sight and then nearly has a heart attack.

Because _of course_ it would be so freaking convenient for her bra to be dangling off the desk chair. And_of course_ it would be even more of a convenience to have the guy's potential girlfriend here glaring at it as if she were trying to incinerate it on the spot.

"Oh my god!" Anna fumbles towards the undergarments, attempting to hide them under her arms. A moot point, she realizes, seeing as the blonde's eyes continue to flicker from the clothing to Anna's beet red face. She raises an eyebrow again, skeptically, watching silently as Anna trips over a pair of jeans haphazardly strewn across the floor.

"I'm so sorry." Anna tugs at the jersey, as she rises from the floor, feeling more and more like the awkward idiot.

"You're apologizing," the blonde speaks slowly. It's impressive how high the blonde's eyebrow stretches. It's even more impressive how easily she manages to make Anna feel like a skank and a two year old at the same time with just one look. "I don't understand why you're apologizing. For tripping over a pair of jeans?"

Anna flushes a deeper red, shuffling uncomfortably on the spot. "N-no! I mean – I didn't mean to – Hans said he wasn't – _he told me he didn't have a girlfriend_." It isn't a complete lie. Or so Anna tells herself. She would never have gone along with this had she known the guy was taken. Then again, she would never have found herself in this predicament in the first place. But now that she thinks back on it (with painfully reluctant admittance), she can't exactly recall the finer details of how she even wound up in this situation.

_Oh god, what if he did mention a girlfriend? And I just helped him cheat! Anna you home wrecking harlot!_

The blonde hasn't responded, but her expression becomes puzzled. It's enough of a response to leave Anna even more of a befuddled mess.

The blonde opens her mouth to speak but just then the door opens, followed by a very confused: "Elsa?" and both girls whirl around to find the source.

There standing in the entry way, with just a towel wrapped around his waist, hair dripping in an absurdly annoying _Calvin Kline model_ kind of way, was _Hans_. Or at least she thinks it's Hans. He does look vaguely familiar, now that he is…present. And, as if said presence seems to turn on a lightbulb, Anna's hang over-induced mind begins to recall the foggy details of her drunken idiocy

..._with mortifying clarity_.


End file.
